Love Me When I'm Gone
by verfens
Summary: After a night where Prussia tried to reach out to all of them, the ex-nation goes missing without a trace. Will Germany and the other ex-axis powers be able to find him? Will there be anything left? Or will they just have to admit he's gone forever?
1. Chapter 1

Love me When I'm Gone

Summary- After a night where Prussia tried to reach out to all of them, the ex-nation goes missing without a trace. Will Germany and the other ex-axis powers be able to find him? Will there be anything left? Or will they just have to admit he's gone forever?

XXXXX

"Man." Gilbert Beilschmidt- better known as the one and only Prussia- said as he stretched his aching back. "I'm getting old." He sat back down onto his chair- the kind that spun around and made the old nation act like a child- and pulled out his trusty PC. He still was working out the kinks in modern technology, but he had America on his side to help the older-than-dirt nation do it.

America, on the other hand, was a relatively young nation. And though he didn't actually know how old Prussia was….well, actually, no one except Prussia himself knew that, but to no matter….it was rather embarrassing. Almost more embarrassing than the fact Prussia had to be knocked out if anyone was going to get him on a plane to fly anywhere. In truth, he was over two millennia old. That's two thousand fucking years.

Like he said, older than dirt- older than just about every other nation out there, excluding China- who was about four thousand years old.

Anyways, all cracks on how old he was aside, he wanted to make plans for the night. He had recently had the urge to go to his homeland, and that meant only one thing.

He was dying.

"Alrighty then…" The technologically challenged nation said, smiling as his fingers were pointed straight as he attempted to use the modern machine. "Who should I email..."

He wanted to talk to all of the people he had arranged in his will, and so one by one, contacted them.

They all rejected him, and with each rejection, he grew more and more anxious.

Until Roderich said he should go to his place.

Relief flooded through his veins. He felt tears in the corner of his eyes. "YES! Oh- it's n-not like I'm happy, or anything like that, stupid!" But he had a silly grin on his face as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

XXXXX

Gilbert opened the door with the key in the flower pot, confused as to why no one was home.

He went out into the den.

His smart phone beeped. "Oh, Feli tweeted something."

His heartbeat stopped.

Dinner with everyone, the post said- and along with it was a picture of his brother, Feli, Kiku, Austria, and Lizzy- All together.

….Everyone?

B-But…he wasn't there…did they think that he wasn't a part of them anymore?

He was the strongest of them all, once.

….Once, of course, being the key word in that sentence.

But now, he was an ex-nation. He was nothing in comparison to big Nations like Italy or Germany- b-but that didn't bother him. He was just another nation left in History, like his father, grandfather, or any of his other siblings.

….did they even need him anymore?

Prussia crushed his phone accidentally. He still had the strength of a nation, still had the people of one, all he was missing was the land that would make him one of them once more. But what was the likelihood in ever getting his land back?

He fell to the ground in his despair, leaning against Austria's couch as he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. H-he wasn't crying. He wasn't! He wouldn't let them have the pleasure of making him cry! He didn't have tears!

Prussia was a term most people didn't even know anymore.

He should be dead.

…He didn't have any tears left to shed, he had thought. But obviously he was wrong. He had plenty of tears to stain his Prussian blue shirt.

The numbers on his wrist stared back at him, mocking him and his foolishness and his failure to notice how evil the Führer truly was.

FAILURE

EVIL

MONSTER

DEMON

The voices from his past screamed at him.

"I was born alone….and I will die….alone…." Prussia chuckled. "How…fitting….for a demon…"

YOU DESERVE THIS

"Yeah…" Red eyes looked down at the phone he destroyed moments ago. "I suppose I do."

He suddenly got up off the ground- in fact, it was almost like he had been forcefully lifted to his feet- feeling an uncontrollable urge to go…somewhere…And started walking to an unknown destination- no actual place in his mind, just some deep-rooted feeling inside of him. He almost felt….sleepy….

This cannot continue...

XXXXX

When he got to the place he was going, he most certainly knew it. Standing in front of him was a large tree that stirred up long forgotten feelings inside him. He didn't know how long he had been walking, but he knew he definitely wasn't in Germany anymore.

In fact…Prussia noted absently….this was the place he was born. This was from his very first memory, except the tree was much, much larger. He wasn't stupid enough to think that it was the exact same tree, it had probably been destroyed and reborn sometime during these past centuries. There had been too much war for it to be the same tree. But…this place was magical. It was protected by the Earth itself.

This was his motherland.

Prussia didn't even recognize what he was doing while he was doing it. He placed a hand to the trunk, and the bark opened up to his touch, offering him a large hole for him to crawl into. Slowly, sleepily, he did just that, and curled up into a ball as the tree trunk closed back up.

He was protected here- safe, even.

Prussia fell into a soft sleep.

He could finally rest.

It was over now.

XXXXX

"Bruder, I'm home." Germany said as he shut the door to his house. The lights weren't on upstairs, so he assumed his elder brother would be downstairs in his basement room. But no voice answered him. "Look, I know you're probably annoyed we didn't have a family get-together, but I really did have plans."

His own lie killed him. In truth, they just hadn't wanted Gilbert to be there with them. They were secretly planning a surprise party for the ex-nation. They felt a little guilty because Gilbert had inevitably seen the picture Italy had stupidly posted, but to no matter. All he could do now was make amends with his elder brother.

He opened the door to the basement, but was surprised when he heard nothing. Not a single sound…except for the occasional peeping of Gilbird.

Worry suddenly seeped into his chest, coating his heart with a sickening feeling. "Bruder?" No answer. "Gilbert?" Still nothing. "Prussia?"

With that, he went all the way down the stairs to see that no one was in the room at all. No one at all.

Panic replaced worry. A note was seen on Prussia's desk chair, and the Nation picked it up.

Man weiß nie, was du hast, bis es weg.

His eyes widened.

What was this? A suicide note?

He had to...he had to find him!

He called Roderich. "Did you here from Gilbert?" He asked.

"Yes, he contacted me last night."

So, he was still alive.

Idiot was probably just trying to scare him.

He went on with his day, figuring he'd see him later.

He didn't notice that it had been a week until he received the call.

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The day they had been called had not been one that was going very well to begin with.

Some were sick. Others were cleaning up after a night of passion that had gone a wrong. One was upset that the person he had made plans with had stiffed him. Others were lonely, wondering where their usual entertainment was.

That was naturally the day they received the call.

"A week from today, there will be the reading of one Gilbert Beilschmidt's will." An unknown voice said from the other end of the phone. Each one were told the exact same information, however, they reacted in different ways. But all of them were going to come.

Russia got it first.

Prussia was dead. The boy, the teen, and the man that had been resistant to General Winter, the man who was both his former ally and former enemy, the albino with the name almost identical to his own, was dead. He stayed frozen in his chair for a few minutes, not quite able to compute the information.

The eternally proud Gilbert Beilschmidt had also invited him to the reading of the will.

How odd.

That had to mean that the dead man had left him something.

He looked to the sky, leaning back in his chair as he held the phone in his hands. "I had thought you had an infinite amount of fight in you, Gilbert." He murmured, turning to the old photograph of the satellite states. "It would seem that you have finally grown tired. You have earned your rest though, I am sure." He reached over, and laid the photo down so he wouldn't have to see those piercing, confident red eyes- the ones that he knew were now dulled and closed, to never open again.

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Germany was next of kin, so he was notified as soon as possible. At first, he had simply brushed off the officer, assuming his brother had gotten into some sort of trouble. It was good to hear he was alright, at least.

It took a few tries before he would stand and listen to what he needed to hear. He had dropped the phone, probably breaking it in his shock.

He stood stock still, unable to even comprehend it.

The figure that had raised him from the first moment he could remember, his loyal, although sometimes foolish big brother, was gone. His mind instantly went back to the last time he had seen him. Prussia had been a little sickly, but it was nothing too worrisome at the time. But now he was dead?!

He then thought back to the note. That should have set every search on then.

Guilt punched him in the stomach, but he knew that he would have to go to this reading, in order to get to the bottom of this.

If this was a sick joke…..His mind trailed off.

If it was a joke, of course the blond would get mad at him, but…he would be relieved.

Ludwig didn't even want to think about the possibility he was actually _gone_.

XXXXX

Roderich was a more timely man, gentlemanly, and so took the letter that had been sent to him personally from the mailman. He opened it carefully with his letter opener, immediately worried when he saw, that even though the person it was from was Gilbert Beilschmidt, it was not written in chicken scratch. It was written in his finest handwriting-which was used for his most formal documents.

If the handwriting had him worried, then the letter had multiplied it tenfold. It was to the reading of Gilberts will. A letter from Gilbert about the reading of his will? Was he threatening suicide?

Or, a voice in the back of his mind supplied, he had already committed it.

There was no return address on the letter. And if there were, would Austria even have anything to say? Daft fool, why on earth would you kill yourself? But there would likely be no ear to pull on, no man to huff at.

He had known Gilbert long enough to tell when he was being serious.

He sat down, pulled out a bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass, taking out a scrap book Hungary had made in her spare time of back when they were all in an alliance, before the wars.

He convinced himself that it was not weak to cry about the death of one of his closest friends, even if he had been a rival and a nuisance.

It was not weak to cry about the man he had known since he had been just a child nation, who hardly even had a grasp on the language of nations.

It was not weak to mourn the loss of his greatest rival, and one of his closest friends.

XXXXX

"This is the last will and testament of Gilbert Beilschmidt (Formerly known as Prussia, Kingdom of Prussia, Teutonic Knights, Teutonic order, and Teuton)." The man coughed a bit, before he continued.

"The deceased has asked that Ludwig (Last name unknown), Roderich Edelstein, Elizeveta Héderváry, Francis Bonnefoy, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, Feliciano Vargas, Lovino Vargas, Arthur Kirkland, Alfred F Jones, Matthew Williams, and Ivan Braginski all attend this reading. He wishes for the reading of only this letter to be aloud, and that the other letters go respectively to their owners-and their owners alone. They can, if they so choose, share them between them. However, Gilbert Beilschmidt makes it clear that they should not be forced to do so." The executor reached over, and turned on a tape recorder, which played back its message faithfully.

"All I have to say to all of you is that I am most certainly dead. I don't know what will happen to me, but I know by the time you're reading this, I am definitely dead. As in, completely gone, body disappeared, yada yada yada. I'm also guessing that some of you are glad that I finally kicked the bucket. But I won't name anyone. I know I'm glad. Nothing is worse than the feeling of knowing that you are no longer needed, in any sense. Anyway, read the letters that have your name on them. Inside are all of the items I have left you, and my last words and pieces of advice for you. Hopefully, my awesome secrets won't turn out to be common knowledge.

The only thing I feel comfortable with all of you knowing is that I died hopefully close to where I was born. I lived a long, fulfilling life of over 2000 years. I was born alone in a cold place, where it was snowing at the time. It seems fitting enough that I die there too. If you hadn't guessed already, it probably took me awhile to prepare all this. Maybe that's a reflection of how you treated me over the last year. Perhaps it isn't. I don't really care anymore. Now, there is a reason all of you are here, now get to it. I didn't have eternity, and neither do you."

With that, the very last recording of Gilbert's voice was gone, never to be heard again as the man took it into his pocket. The executor of his will got up. "He asked me to destroy the tape when it finished." He said in a somber voice. "I am sorry for your loss," He mumbled, handing out the individual letters for them to read.

Somewhere between the end of the recording, and getting his letter with the scrawled handwriting on it, Feliciano had started to cry. It was starting to sink in at this point. Prussia was gone. He had disappeared. They would never see him again. While it was none of their faults, it felt as though the weight of his death was hanging onto them, covering their hearts in a layer of ice as they remembered the last few days of Gilbert's life.

A confident smile and ruby red eyes gone forever.

A light in all of their lives that had been snuffed out.

XXXXX

108


	2. Chapter 2

Love Me When I'm Gone

XXXXX

Germany's Letter

"Dear mein Bruder:

I hope you know that I loved you more than anything in the world. I met you when you were just a baby nation. I still remember how scared of me you were." Prussia laughed over the recording.

Ludwig was listening to the tape in the letter. He had gotten an audio recording of his brother's voice, though it sounded pained.

"Why didn't I tell you? You might be asking. Well, unless I got the chance before I died after I made this, I've tried to several times. You've always just brushed me off. Stiffed me. Made other plans."

Gilbert sighed over the recording. "Well, I was dying ever since GDR dissolved. But, a year ago, I started to have the urge to go to my birth place. That is where you'll probably find anything remaining of me. I honestly don't know where it is, so you should look around in the Northern region of Europe." Gilbert seemed to sniffle a bit over the recording. "A-Anyway, I should tell you what I wanted to."

"The truth is, you weren't born in 1871, when I formed Germany. You are actually almost as old as me." He murmured, and the recording went quiet. "You were a nation called Holy Rome, once. Italy's first love. Italy isn't sure, but I am confirming that for him in my letter to him." Gilbert sighed. "I didn't tell you, because I didn't feel as though you needed to know about the part of your past you can't remember. I'm only saying anything now so you and Italy can finally be happy. Go to him, Bruder."

"I guess, I should finish the recording now...oh wait. My things." He gave an address. "I put everything away that I was going to give forever ago. The keys to the storage unit are in the envelope I gave you." So, that was what those were for.

The recording was coming to an end. "My advice is that you lose the stick up your ass, and pay closer attention to those who love you."

"If you had, maybe I'd still be there."

The recording clicked off, and Ludwig was left alone in a big house meant for two. Him, and his older brother.

Gilbird chirped sadly, and Ludwig gently rubbed at the birds feathers.

"I miss him too." Germany mumbled, still in shock.

It had been a few days since the reading of the will, and this was the third time he had listened to his brother's voice.

He put it in the drawer, and sighed softly.

"I will miss him for a very long time."

The funeral Gilbert himself had arranged would commence in a few days.

How sad.

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Hungary's Letter:

"I want you to know that yours was the hardest to make." She sat down, with a cup of tea as she finally deigned to open up her envelope.

Elizaveta couldn't believe the idiot had gone and died. She had never even apologized for all the shitty things she'd done to him, and vice versa.

By opening the envelope, she was recognizing he was gone.

And she didn't quite know why that hurt so much.

"I had to split it up into two." He mumbled. "But I'll get to that second one later. The first thing I want to say, is sorry. I never treated you like you deserved. I want to apologize for being a nuisance to you."

Elizaveta almost dropped her cup to the floor in shock. "What?" She murmured, before he continued.

"Well, I don't expect an apology out of you for causing me so much trouble, as I'm dead now." He laughed weakly. "But, overall, I wanted you to know that. I never meant to cause you any trouble."

"You see, Liz, you were always my best friend, and above all..." He paused, hesitant.  
"My greatest, and only love." He whispered, and she rewinded it just to ensure she had heard that right.

Her breath stopped, and she paused the recording to collect that thought.

"My greatest, and only love." He said again, and she put a hand over her heart.

He had...loved her?

"I wanted to tell you, but I loved you enough to let you go. I wasn't enough to make you happy. So, I let you live with him. I want you to go somewhere now. At the end of this,

I'm giving you a gift. The one thing I left you."

He read off an address, and she wrote it down. "I'll have another recording for you there." He murmured and it clicked off.

She got into her car immediately, and drove off into the fields of Europe, where there were not really houses. "Where have you taken me, Gilbert?" She asked herself, before

she came upon a field full of wildflowers.

They were always her favorite.

There was another recording with a human there, and now the land belonged to her, apparently.

She had started to cry somewhere along the way, and now didn't know how to stop.

XXXXX

Austria's letter:

"I hope you know that I hated you for a time, but now I don't have the energy to." He said, voice harsh. "You had everything that I wanted, and then you wasted it."  
So he had been right, Gilbert was mad at him for wasting his love with Elizaveta.

"I told you that I loved her, and you stomped all over my love!" He sighed. "Why? Why did you never tell her? I did it out of respect for you, my fellow German nation. I couldn't tell her, she would never have believed me. Well, now that I'm dead, I had the guts to tell her. You probably already know that's what I put in my letter."

"If you ever had any respect for me, Roderich, you'll tell her the truth when she comes to ask questions. And you will comfort her, in my place. I showed her the one thing I always kept for her, and she might not take that well. I also expect you to keep the family together, despite my death. That's all I ask of you."

The recording clicked off. He had gone to the storage unit Gilbert had left him, and inside, found several old portraits of them when they had all lived together.

Gilbert had kept them safe after all.

Roderich smiled. "Thank you, asshole." He murmured.

XXXXX

France's Letter:

It wasn't a recording. It was a political cartoon from after WWI, and it had a caption, which read.

"You killed me. You won."

France didn't feel any joy.

He must have planned this years ago, as the letter was far older than any of the others he had seen.

They had once been bitter enemies, and in his hatred, had cursed Gilbert to fade away.

Now he was left with only his mistakes to watch him.

He imagined red eyes flung wide open, staring in judgement.

There are two things you have to do for yourself. You have to go to god, and you have to learn about living for yourself.

Gilbert had done both now.

France still had much to learn.

XXXXX

A/N: The next couple chapters will just be the letters, and then plot will move along. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter 3:

XXXXX

Antonio's Letter:

"Hey, you big lug. I just wanted to tell you that I'll miss you. You did such a good job at trying to keep my spirits up." Prussia's voice rung out in his flat, and Antonio was drinking.

He had known his friend was dying. He had asked Antonio not to tell anyone. Antonio obeyed his wish, but now knew that he shouldn't have.

He had always done his best to keep his buddy happy, once they were friends after the fall of the USSR. He had seen nations die before, and so, as two elder nations, had sought comfort in each other.

He cried a bit. That asshole, going and leaving him when he still needed his help. Germany and him weren't that close, and Gilbert had really been Antonio's link in the EU. Now, he would have to get closer to Germany, it seemed. Even though the idiot had killed his brother.

Additionally, he had never received his help in winning over Lovino.

"You were one of my closer friends. Even closer than France was. Even though Francis and I patched up out relationship, we never did get as close as we could have. I sent him a pretty nasty reminder of the dark patch in our friendship." He sighed in the recording.

"Try and get together with the one you love now. I know you were holding back for me, but now you're free."

"I'll really miss you, Toni." The recording finished, and Antonio was left in the dark with his bottle of fine German beer, given to him as a gag gift.

He had not answered his call one time too many. Now he was gone. And it was his fault.

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Feliciano's Letter:

He was just in shock. Three times over now, and he still couldn't believe what he was hearing.

That jerk. He had kept this a secret for so long! Had kept them apart for so long!

But he had protected Ludwig from this for a reason.

"I don't want you to love him for who he used to be. I want you to love him for who he is now."

That made everything Germany did make so much more sense. Germany was in love with him.

Feliciano smiled in thanks to the dead man. "Thank you, big brother Prussia." He murmured, looking to the picture he had of him.

"I know I should have been around you more, but thank you anyway for this gift."

Now he and Germany could find comfort in each other.

XXXXX

Lovino's letter:

It wasn't a recording, rather a traditional letter.

"I know you didn't expect anything from me, but I left you something anyway." The letter began, after "Hey, Lovino."

"I am leaving with you the knowledge Spain loves you back as much as you love him."

Prussia's letter to him was short, but inside was a key to a storage room. Inside that storage room had been a bunch of old portraits- some of his grandfather, others of Spain, and France when they were young. In some of them, Germania's family was with them. The most precious one to him, was a statue of his grandfather holding a baby- himself.

It reminded him of days long since past. The Germans had stolen art from him, but as a gift, Prussia had returned it.

Potato bastard wasn't as bad as he thought...maybe, anyway.

He wasn't crying!

XXXXX

A/N: Another short chapter about what they've been left! Only one more, and then the plot will move along with Gilbert's funeral.


	4. Chapter 4

Tuesday, March 18, y

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter 4

Arthur's letter:

It was a curt letter, obviously written under a great amount of stress. Or at least, the first one was. It was spit and venom, and reflected Gilbert's attitude towards him during the Cold War. He sighed as he read it, guilt filling him.

He and France had killed him. That was the long and short of it. They, through their actions, had killed Gilbert.

The second letter was kinder. An apology. This reflect his current attitude toward Arthur. After Arthur's apology for the events that happened to him during the war, and how he had been treated after they were able to be friends again- or something of the sort. They spent time, and Gilbert had teasingly called them the old man club. Gilbert knit, and Arthur embroidered.

It had been easy going, and they reminisced about empires past. He was given Gilbert's belongings from when they were both first born, roughly 2000 years ago. A bow and arrow, child sized, and a small sword that was more like a knife in their adult hands. In the locker left, was a embroidered tapestry. This one was special, though. It was of...his mother?

"For everything you did, thank you." Gilbert said, pinned to the tapestry. "Don't be afraid to go after him."

Arthur huffed. "Thank you, arse." He muttered, looking at the image of his mother.

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Alfred's letter:

What had been left for him, was all of Gilbert's army history. He had been trained by Gilbert, and this was something special between them. All his tactics, which had made him fearsome.

Also left for him, had been advice on how to win Arthur over.

"Don't tease him for it, but give him some stuff to embroider. He likes to do that."

Alfred smiled at the messy handwriting. He should have done more to help him, before and after the Cold War.

That was his regret. He might have been able to save him, had he done something.

This gift to him was meaningful, and he sent a prayer up to Gilbert, that he was okay, wherever he was.

Matthew's letter:

Matthew's letter from Gilbert was written in cursive. It thanked him for his continued friendship, and asked him not to think too badly of Gilbert for leaving him alone.

"Do more to be noticed! If the awesome me was your friend, I think you can make plenty others!"

He touched the paper, and sighed.

"I'll do my best Gil...since now, you can't..." He murmured, and looked out into the snowy outdoors.

White like snow. Pure, even. Gilbert was his own special type of pure- though he was strewn with a bloody past, Gilbert had been special. And they would all remember him for the hardworking, dedicated person he had been, despite his occasional narcissism.

The funeral was tomorrow. He was on a flight to Germany tonight.

It was time for him to say goodbye to Gilbert.

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26


End file.
